Page 94

Chapter Two

A xxios

I feel Brianna’s presence before I see or hear her. My body’s tuned to her frequency, like an instrument. I love my twin so much, I’m not ashamed she saw me crying over him. Perhaps she understands, although she’d never comprehend the extent of a Mythrian twin bond.

I kiss Braxx on the forehead again, then turn to face her. My cock hardens immediately; my body responds reflexively to her. She’s beautiful—the sexiest female I’ve ever seen. I’d rut with her five times a day if I could. But she refuses.

I’d love to sheathe myself in her right this minima . It would turn my mind from my fears about Braxxus while giving us both pleasure. Her back is straight, her face is like stone, and she’s avoiding my gaze—as usual.

“I can take it from here. I’m going to give him a sponge bath,” she announces as she fills a basin with water. “Then I’ll give him a massage. It’s the one thing I’m competent doing; lord knows I’m no nurse,” her words are light, but I can hear the tension in her voice.

It’s like watching a bad play where the actors are busy doing bits of business, but their actions don’t fit their emotions.

“I wish you wouldn’t avoid me, Brie. I could use some comfort.”

Her hands shake, and the water from the basin spills back into the sink. She makes a quarter turn so that her back is fully toward me.

“You could use some comfort? Or some sex?” She sounds hurt even though we’ve had this discussion and I’ve explained it more than once.

“Sex is comfort to me. And I’ve watched you, Brie. It is to you, too.” I don’t understand her resistance.

Brianna

It’s hard to hide your inner feelings from a man you’ve opened yourself to, who’s delved into your private spaces. He knows my weakness. I’d hoped he’d be consumed with his brother’s health today, and just let me go about my business. But I should realize by now he’s relentless.

I’ve never been in a real relationship before. Well, I guess I’m not in a real relationship even now.

I went from a chubby kid to a fat adolescent. I heard one of the other women on board good-naturedly refer to me as a BBW. That term doesn’t really resonate with me. Especially the second “B.”

Growing up overweight in America with all the size zero models and skinny actresses makes it hard to feel pretty, even if they’ve come up with a new, politically correct name to describe me. You can only be called names, not picked for teams in P.E., and not asked to dance at school events so many times before you get the message that you’re not attractive, that you don’t measure up.

I got the message loud and clear. That’s why I’m not surprised Axxios doesn’t want much to do with me if we’re not in bed. The fact is, though, I can’t bear to feel rejected—or used. Even now, I have to clench my jaw to contain the torrent of hurt, angry words that are ready to spew from my mouth.

“Lie with me, Brianna,” his tone is rough with yearning, his eyes penetrating mine.

I stop pretending I’m filling this freaking basin with water and just stand facing away from him, my back ramrod straight.

“Lie with me in the other exam room. We’ll hear Braxx if he stirs.”

I swallow, my mouth dry with desire at the sound of his deep, persuasive voice.

I turn off the water, still presenting my back to him while avoiding the mirror in front of me. Mirrors are my enemy. I’m outflanked—enemies in front and behind me.

It’s funny how I’ve developed the ability to look in a mirror and see only what I need to. I can notice if there’s spinach in my teeth, or if my mascara ran, without seeing my double chin or plump cheeks. Right now I can avoid my own reflection even as I see his as he rises from his chair and stalks toward me.

His skin is as golden as an Egyptian statuette. His body is as muscled as a heavyweight fighter. His face is as beautiful and aristocratic as a Calvin Klein model—only more masculine. My body betrays me even as I force myself to stand straighter and avoid his image in the mirror. My nipples have already risen to firm peaks against my bra. My core is already clenching in empty need. I’ve lost the war before I’ve even waged the first battle.

“Lie with me, Brianna. Let me make you feel good.” His hand touches my shoulder so lightly you’d think I could ignore it, but I can’t.

“I’ve asked you not to do this, Axxios. I’ve begged you.” I’m looking down at my hands in the sink, still clutching the stupid metal basin. I order myself not to glance in the mirror, his beautiful face will undo me.

His fingers slowly trace from my shoulder up to the exposed skin of my neck, then pause there, transferring their warmth to me. His hand reaches in front and grasps the vulnerable column of my neck. His touch is butterfly soft. An uninitiated observer would have no awareness of how deeply sensual this is. I imagine he can feel my carotid hammering in double time.

He bends achingly slowly, sweeping my long hair off my neck and then plants a soft, warm kiss on the delicate skin. He must know he’s won when I lower my head, giving him better access to that exquisitely sensitive spot.

His lips are still pressed to my skin as he groans, “So warm, so soft, Brianna. So beautiful.”

He has to feel me stiffen. He knows I hate that word. I forbade him to use it when we were locked in that tiny cell together, but he never obeyed my edict.

“So beautiful,” he says again, just to assert his dominance. But at this moment I don’t care. He’s talking to the part of me that wants to believe his pretty lies.

His humid breath stirs the wispy hairs on my nape. He nips me there with the blunt surface of his teeth. Every nerve and synapse in my body has been flipped to on from the securely off position. At this point, we both know my agreement with his proposition is just a formality.

“Lovely Brianna. Lush Brianna. I know every delicious curve.” His hands lodge at the widest point of my hips, then wend their way slowly to the indent of my waist, skim up my sides, and come to rest on my shoulders. Instead of ordering him to stop or slapping his hands away, I simply wonder when my body gave allegiance to someone else. It’s certainly not obeying my orders to stand down.

“Look at us in the mirror, Brie. Look how beautiful we are together. Your lovely pale flesh contrasts against my gold. We belong together.”

He has to know I won’t do it. That would break the spell. With my eyes closed, I can feel attractive, if just for a moment. With my eyes closed, I can pretend I belong in the arms of this gorgeous male. The mirror, my enemy, would ruin everything. So I run away from it and turn in his arms to face him.

Tactical error! I realize immediately this position is so much more dangerous. The tips of my breasts graze his broad chest. His hard cock pulses against my abdomen. And if I open my eyes I’ll be face to face with the most devastatingly gorgeous turquoise eyes I’ve ever seen.

“That’s right,” he croons. His hands span my waist and press me even closer. “Let me give you pleasure.”

He bends to kiss me. His lips on mine. I still haven’t said yes, although at this point we both know it’s a foregone conclusion. His mouth is soft, his tongue probing. He’s still in polite questing mode. The minute I give my consent, things will change. He’ll unleash his full, wild sexuality on me. Every nerve in my body is on high alert, waiting for that. I know how overwhelmingly sensual that will be.

His tongue licks the seam of my lips and I open to him. My thoughts are sluggish. I’m drifting into “feel-only” mode. And yes, I’m certainly feeling. I’m aware of his warm, masculine smell, the small noises he makes from the back of his throat, and his fingers lodged in my long hair, pressing my face even closer to his.

His tongue strokes mine, gently waking up the fires inside me that I’ve tried to tamp down. Just these kisses, this tender invasion, the dark, spicy taste of him, the deep rumble of his moan have aroused every cell in my body.

“Let me get you naked, Brie. Let me lay you down on the bed in the next room and fulfill your body over and over again.”

“Yes,” I hear myself say. It’s a different Brie, the damn-the-consequences Brie, the wanton Brie. I’ll pay for this in an hour when she’s long gone and I’m left holding the bag—the bag full of shitty feelings. But I’m powerless against his determined onslaught.

He lifts me up as if I weigh nothing and strides into the adjoining small exam room. We’ll have complete privacy. Everyone knows the doctor’s not here; no one will barge in.

He sits me gently on the bed, then turns away. Ever the gentleman, he rigs a blanket over the window in the door, then shuts us up in this private space.

Bending to my eye level, he stares intently at me. I know what he wants, a clear sign that my answer is yes—that I want this. I nod and Wanton Brie takes control, reaching over and slowly unzipping his blue jumpsuit, a sexy smile slashed across her brazen face.

He stands and steps out of his clothes in one lithe movement, then lifts me off the bed and onto my feet. He pulls my t-shirt over my head, then sucks in his breath as he looks at me, my breasts contained in a plain, white bra. “You take my breath away.” His gaze sweeps me up and down. If the intensity of that gaze was any measure of his attraction, the gauge would be off the charts.

After sliding my leggings and panties off, he chucks them onto the chair with our other discarded clothes. He sits me on the edge of the bed and falls to his knees on the floor in front of me.

“I haven’t tasted you in far too long,” his voice is husky. He spreads my knees wide and licks a trail with his tongue wide and flat from my dripping core to my clit. His hands gently press me back on the bed, then lift my feet to rest on his shoulders.

“You’re so open for me. Such a pretty shade of pink.” He takes a deep breath in, then focuses a long, warm stream of air on my wet folds as he exhales. “I’m going to make you scream.”

I have no doubt.

My clit is pulsing for him, my core is weeping for him. I don’t have to wait long before he attacks with the tip of his tongue, flicking my clit, then dipping into me, then flicking again.

“Computer, lights out,” I order, knowing I’ll feel more comfortable in the pitch darkness.

Axxios stops the magic he’s performing just long enough to say, “I’ve memorized how beautiful you are, Brie. Lights on or not, I can still see you in my mind’s eye.”

And then his tongue is back and it’s relentless: teasing, suckling, thrusting. My desire is building fast; my thighs are already quivering. He sucks the mound of my clit into his mouth and applies suction while moaning in satisfaction. My first orgasm rolls through me with the velocity and force of a class 5 tornado.

“You were desperate for release,” he chides, his voice deep and sexy. “I told you not to wait so long.”

He says this between the soft, wet kisses he trails up my belly to the valley between my breasts. He moves onto the bed next to me now, his weight on his hip which is pressed next to mine. He bends his head close to my face.

“I’m going to play with these.” He plucks both nipples in unison until I moan and writhe in pleasure. “And by the time I touch down here again,” he cups my sex, “you’ll be frantic for me to fill you.”

Traitorous Wanton Brie leans up and kisses his soft, warm lips. My tongue penetrates his mouth as if I can’t get enough of his taste—his taste mingled with mine. He leans against the headboard, his legs wide enough for me to fit between. He lays my back against his chest and his hands lavish attention on my breasts and nipples.

The feeling is intense, erotic. My head lashes back and forth against his pecs as he plays my body as if he owns it.

He stops long enough to reach down and rearrange my legs as if I’m his little doll. When he’s done, my feet are close to my bottom, my knees splayed out, ensuring I’m exposed for him.

“I want you open for me, Brie. If I can’t see you, I need to smell you. Now I need to hear you. I need to hear you moan.”

His hands are lifting the weight of my breasts, my hard nipples spearing his palms. The intensity of my desire is so compelling I understand the term temporary insanity. Right now he could ask me for anything, he could tell me to do anything, and I would comply without a moment’s hesitation.

He bends low and scrapes the tips of my nipples with his teeth. I’m on fire. I feel my next orgasm barreling down on me—I’m close.

We’re both sitting up now, I’m still leaning against his chest. He’s got my legs spread open, so it’s within easy reach for him to place two fingers to the side of my clit and press, circling.

“Fuck,” I moan low in my throat as I come so hard and so long I have time to wonder if I’ve ever felt such intense pleasure in all my life.

“That’s right, Brie. Your body was made for this. Our bodies fit together perfectly. I’ll show you.”

He turns me over so I’m straddling his pelvis. I’m certain I’m painting that gorgeous golden skin with my cream. “Ride me. Take your pleasure from me.” He lifts my hips and situates the blunt tip of his cock at my entrance, then takes his hands away and stills his body.

Is he doing this on purpose so I won’t be able to blame him for this? So when I think back on this coupling I’ll be forced to remember that I was the aggressor?

And I am the aggressor. I slide onto him in one, slow, sensual movement until he’s inside of me to the hilt. I wait, with no movement, loving this moment of being completely filled, stretched, open, and invaded. And now I move. My movements are awkward at first, then I establish a rhythm and find the right angle and have another screaming whole-body orgasm. And, moments later, another.

He flips us over and begins pounding into me. His balls slap against me as his cock rams into me at a much quicker pace than I had set. I hear him panting and feel every muscle in my body tighten in anticipation.

“Now, Brie,” he breathes hotly in my ear. We both launch into release at the same time. I’m aware of everything and nothing. I’m totally focused on the rhythmic contractions of my muscles as well as the shattering orgasm tearing me apart. At the same time, I could write a novel about every nuance of this golden male: the granite muscles under the velvet skin, the masculine scent of him, the sounds of our flesh touching, and of his soft grunts of pleasure.

I’d love to stop time. To stay in this moment of physical rapture, with no thinking, no nagging and scolding from the back of my mind. If I could stay in this blissful cocoon I’d live here forever.

He rolls us onto our sides, his cock still inside me. My core is still quivering in aftershocks. I realize Wanton Brie has abandoned me; it’s just embarrassed, weak, lily-livered Brie who’s left holding the bag.

I didn’t want him to touch me for this very reason. I knew I’d hate myself when it was over. Now, with the muscles of his powerful arm loosely draped across my back, I remind myself why I’d resolved to never wind up in a bed with him again.

There’s a moment in my past that I’ve constructed into a still photograph I carry in my head. I was at my friend Ariel’s wedding reception and enjoying the toasts. There was one moment where Matt looked at her with so much love it made my stomach clench in envy. I promised myself I’d have that one day. I promised myself that someday I’d be in a relationship where my boyfriend looked at me like he loved me that much. Fat or not, I made a pact with myself that I deserved that.

And this male, whose arm is slung over my shoulder and has fallen asleep with his cock inside me, can’t give me that.

Tears sting my eyes. I don’t want to wake him. I don’t want a scene—another scene. I just have to ensure that this, what happened in this bed just now, never ever happens again.

I’ll give him one more chance. After that intense session of sex, maybe some switch magically flipped inside him. Maybe, when the lights turn on I’ll see that look of love and longing on his handsome face. But if I don’t, I already have a speech prepared.

Axxios

I startle awake and immediately realize where I am, and how long I’ve been gone from my post. I left Tyree at the helm of the ship, though he’s not fully qualified; he’s still in training. I should never have left him alone for so long.

“Computer, lights on dim,” I whisper. I’d like to allow Brianna to keep drowsing. She’s probably gotten less rest than I have over the last few days since Braxx came on board. When I’m not piloting, Tyree relieves me; at least I get decent sleep.

Brianna’s been caring for Braxx day and night with no respite. Drack , she had to beg to get half an hoara off to take a shower. She’s caring for him because I asked her. Perhaps I’m taking advantage. But I don’t trust anyone else on board as much as I trust her, except the doc.

Gods, she’s beautiful. She’s female perfection, but she can’t stand to even look at herself in the mirror. I wish she could see herself the way I see her. She tried to explain—said there was something in her culture that made her feel bad about herself and her body. She said Earthers don’t like her form. It made no sense. I couldn’t comprehend it. I can’t tear my eyes from her when we’re in the same room—I think she’s gorgeous.

It’s too bad she wants something from me I can’t give. I try to understand what’s missing, but her explanation never quite makes sense to me. I’d die for her, I know that.

I knew I might be killed when we overthrew the slavers who owned this ship. I was not only willing to die for my own freedom, but for her as well.

Before we launched our attack, I’d pictured the possible scenario of a laser gun pointed at her. I knew that without hesitation I’d step in front of it to protect her life. Still, she says there’s something she needs from me, something I don’t give her.

“I fell asleep,” she says as she wipes strands of her long, brown hair off her lovely face.

“Me, too. I need to relieve Tyree. I hate to leave him at the helm for too long.”

She nods, then casually commands, “Look at me a moment before you go.”

I gaze into her forest-green eyes. I’ve been told females are inscrutable, but none more than this one. She’s searching for something; I can’t fathom what. I can tell by her expression she didn’t find what she was looking for. Her lips quiver and her eyes brim with tears.

She’s up and getting dressed in record time. She hands me my jumpsuit, it’s gripped between two fingers as if she can’t stand to touch anything that’s been close to my flesh. She’s waiting in front of the door, her back straight as a board.

“Axx, I know you love your brother,” she pauses, waiting, I guess, for me to agree. I nod my head. “I’ve asked you to leave me alone many times since we were freed and moved to separate cabins. Yet you continue to pursue me.

“I know, I should be able to say no. I should be able to rebuff your advances. I should be able to walk away. But I’m a weak woman. So, even though this is shitty and cowardly of me, here are my terms.

“I’ll continue to care for your brother to the best of my ability. As you know, I’m not a nurse, but I turn him every hour and bathe him, and I learned how to change the feeding solution in the medbot. I massage him to keep his muscles moving so they don’t atrophy. I talk to him and try to let the deep part of his mind know he’s safe and his brother is here waiting for him to wake up. I do all of this willingly and with a generous spirit.”

“I know, Brianna. I’ve watched. If I haven’t thanked you enough, let me thank you again. You’ve been more than kind.” I want to please this female. I have no idea what she wants.

“You’re welcome, but I need something else, Axx. If you approach me for sex again I will walk right out of medbay and never come back. I will not spend another minute caring for your brother. If you ask to lie with me, if you tell me any more pretty lies about how I look, if you even look at me like you want to tear my clothes off, I’m out of here. Do you understand?”

No, I don’t understand. We just shared the best, most intimate sex of my life. It wasn’t just me, her body spoke eloquently about her level of enjoyment. I don’t understand why she wouldn’t want to share that again. But by the look on her face, my time for asking questions is over.

“Yes, I understand. No sex, no asking, no looking, no...compliments. I’ll stay as far from you as possible, but I will still come to visit my twin. Thank you for your help.” I give her a last look, trying one more time to intuit what, exactly, she wants from me, but I get no answers. I enter the next room to press my palm to my comatose brother’s cheek, then head to the bridge.